The RedHaired Boy:Average No More
by Yours
Summary: You all love Ron...now it's time to see him kick butt in various ways. Ron like you've never seen him before. And yes, there is some Romance for our leading man, but I'm trying not to make this a teenbopper thing. R/R!
1. Default Chapter

"CAW!" The pale red-haired boy was disturbed from his sound slumber by what appeared to be a fluffy white blur. Standing on his windowsill, the bird grunted and nipped at its feathers, disturbing the two brown owls that were caged in his room. A heavy package had hit the boy on his head, causing a momentary blurriness of vision, but this soon stopped, and as he rubbed his eyes, he was greeted by a most peculiar sight. "HEDWIG! How on earth did Harry managed to release you from the Dursley hellhole?" The owl cawed again, and after affectionately nuzzling against Ron's freckled skin, it was off like the seeker of the Chudley Cannons, zipping through the pinkish orange glow of the sky at dawn, and Ron, mesmerized by the sight, looked out upon the stunning bird, almost forgetting about Harry's package until it occured to him that he was holding a brown wrapped box. There was a letter on top of the box in Harry's narrow handwriting, reading "PLEASE OPEN ME."  
  
Odd, thought Ron, why wouldn't I open a letter? Ron was intruiged, yet oddly suspicious. He nervously opened the letter, his worry growing that it would hold bad news about his best friend. Dear Ron,  
  
This seventh year at Hogwarts should appear to be our worst yet. I thought I had him beat in fifth year, Ron, I really did, but lately a unicorn has been sitting outside my window at night, causing my scar to have a terrible tinge to it, and for some odd reason, I am reminded of Lucius Malfoy. To make matters worse, the nightmares about my parents have grown to enormous proportions, only this time, they are not just about the night of their death, but the dreams zigzag back and forth, and for some reason, the baby version of me is in mortal danger, and who arrives but a full-grown version of you, whisking me away. You probably think that this is all batty, I know I do, but was it Mad Eye Moody who said something about never ignoring ones' intuitions? The point of this letter is that I am trusting you, (because you are my best friend, Ron Weasley,) with a most crucial task. It is your VERY IMPORTANT DUTY to safeguard my new Lighting Flash broom for the following reasons: a) The Dursleys are slowly throwing away all of my wizarding goods...they have grown utterly imossible, I swear, at one point Vernon lit a match in my room and I had to use the Water Flush spell...the first random spell that popped into my head. Had I not been there, my things would have been ruined!  
  
b) With the growing threat of Voldemort, I don't see how having extra magical things lying around my room would help me...it would be like a neon sign that said "HARRY POTTER, RIGHT HERE!" c) If I ever get into mortal peril, I have a feeling you would be the one who could help me d) You know you love this broom. This is an unusually long Harry letter, Ron, I just wanted to explain my reasoning before you start to think that your friend has gone insane and is being posessed by Voldemort, who demanded that he give up his broom. If I seem refreshingly optimistic, it's because worry at this point would only add fuel to the fire. This letter, of course, this will self destruct in when you read my signature. Goodbye! Harry Potter As the letter exploded in a small BOOM!, Ron was confused, worried, and ecstatic at the same time. He was confused because giving up a favorite broom seemed so unlike Harry, even with the methodical reasoning that would seem to explain everything. The worry was fueled by dreams and premonitions that pointed to one thing: Voldemort. More worry came as Ron pondered the fact that Harry seemed to count on HIM of all people to help him in mortal peril. Not Dumbledore. Not "Snuffles". HIM! Had Harry forgotten that he was only Ron Weasley, an average boy whose own presence was dimmed by the effervescent glow of his two best friends? Ron questioned Harry's sanity for trusting him with his life, and for having the dream where Ron could just whisk away and save him from what was the most deadly, evil wizard of all time. Ron wondered why Harry would treat this Voldemort issue as a joke, entrusting a dreamy, forgetful redhead...and it was then that Ron looked down at the golden, gleaming wood and realized that in his hand was a Lighting Flash, made by the creators of the original Nimbus 2000. Harry was no fool on this count, because Ron did love this broom. In fact, he was racing along on this faster-than-the-speed-of-lightning broom, crashing into things and causing a great ruckus when he heard the voice of a deep-throated tigress, bellowing from the kitchen, "RONALD WEASLEY! YOU WILL COME DOWNSTAIRS IMMEDIATELY!"  
  
Ah, war. He looked at the clock. 6 AM. Just on time. 


	2. Unexpected Twist

Hey everyone, I got your reviews for my first chapter. The spacing problem has been solved, because from now on all my documents will ONLY be typed with Microsoft Word, as opposed to using WordPad and then copying and pasting. And now, for chapter two, finally! Chapter Two  
  
Mrs. Weasley had the look of a warrior, and after seventeen years on this earth, Ron was still deathly afraid of the rage and emotion found in her "RONALD WEASLEY!" He braced himself for what would surely be a twenty- minute tirade on the ruckus and commotion he was causing, but was saved, however momentarily, by the shuffle of his sleepy, dreamy father making his way down the stairs. "Arthur Weasley, do you have any idea what your son was doing while you were sleeping?" Arthur shook his head and yawned. "Correction, Molly. Do I know what my son was doing while I was up all night doing research for the ministry of magic? And no, my dear, but it certainly sounded like a good time." The red-haired dragon tried to muffle her fire, but it came out in her voice and in her shaking hands. "You were up ALL NIGHT working for the ministry of magic?" Arthur was too tired to battle his enraged wife, so he nodded in surrender, prepared for questions, accusations, and other such unpleasantries. Ron seemed to be floating into the abyss of invisibility, as all children do when their parents are having a match of wits. As Ron slowly inched himself towards the staircase that led to the safety of his room, Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath and uttered just one word: "Why?" Ron stopped in his steps at that moment, because he realized that if one person in this house would be able to provide information about Harry's predicament, it would be his father, who had close ties with those in the ministry of magic. Arthur cleared his throat and began to rock back and forth nervously. "Look, Molly, wouldn't you like a spot of tea, or perhaps a nice."Arthur paused, only to see that his wife was glaring at him with the most dreaded of death glares. "Molly, it really isn't worth getting into a huge fuss about, at least not yet, not until we know." Of course, this did not seem to make Molly feel better about the safety of her children. "If your keeping this information from me means that my mind will be at peace.well, it isn't worth it. I'd rather just know.unless the information is disclosed." Mr. Weasley gave his wife a curt nod. "It is disclosed-for now. Everything we know is just a rumor, but involves a certain dark wizard.and that's all I can say." Ron knew precisely what dark wizard his father was talking about, but did not say as much. He was trying to keep quiet, still and invisible, a task that was all too easy for a boy who had been overshadowed by almost everyone in his life. However, Ron knew that it was only a matter of time before his mother would remember that her ever-quiet son was going unpunished before her eyes. As Arthur quietly retreated to his office, Molly sighed, wiped her hands on her apron, and proceeded to watch over a pot that was boiling an angry purple smoke. Ron slowly began to retreat to his room. He had almost made it to the other end of the kitchen when he heard his mother's voice. "Now, Ron, about this matter of the ruckus you caused earlier." Ron sighed and turned around. "I'm sorry, mum." Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "Need I remind you that houses do not grow on trees? I am ashamed of you. You obviously have no respect for the amount of time I put into keeping this house orderly and presentable, for crying out loud! Just because one does not come from money doesn't mean their house has to be in shambles! If you don't control whatever it is you were doing there, don't expect to live here much longer!" Ah, how Ron hated the constant topic of poverty. It was not easy growing up in the infernal house and always hearing about how they were poor. This was the exact thing that made him persecuted by the Malfoys of this world, and Ron decided that maybe he would be able to tolerate this poverty if it were not the main focus of his life. Lately, however, his mother had talked of nothing but the lack of money, and Ron began to wonder if this disadvantage was what made him who he is. After thinking on it, he realized that he was growing annoyed at his mother, and this was a terrible thing, for when he grew annoyed at his mother, he often talked back. Ron did not want to cause much more conflict; for he realized that what he should be focusing on was Harry's situation. He gave a short yet sincere apology and waited impatiently to be allowed back to his room. "Ron, I have something else to tell you." He braced himself for the worst. "I need to be leaving for a few days. It has to do with your father's business. I am growing tired of your father's inability to communicate about this dark wizard matter. I'm taking this into my own hands. I shall leave in twenty minutes. If you need me, I will be with your brother Percy." "But, mum, this is ridiculous.what could you possibly do to help?" Little did Ron know what she would say next. "Oh, help me, I guess you're getting old enough that I told you. In case you were wondering, I used to be an auror."  
  
Ron immediately thought of Mad-Eye Moody and found it impossible to picture his mother in such a capacity. In fact, although he knew that this was a serious matter (for crying out loud, his mother could be in danger) he couldn't help but laugh a little. Looking at his mother again, he suddenly had an explanation for her fiery, restless nature. "Mum.you?" Mrs. Weasley grinned. "A bit of a surprise, eh? Well, Ron, as the unofficial man of the house now that Fred and George are traveling the world and your father is.well.busy, I ask that you take good care of your sister." "Don't worry, I will." And as Mrs. Weasley transmogrified into oblivion, Ron was left with one pressing question: What on Earth?? 


End file.
